Drowning Sorrows
by A Phrase That Cuts These Lips
Summary: Blaine is concerned for Kurt's social life and takes him to a Dalton party. Kurt learned some things about himself: That he is a lightweight, that he shouldn't be allowed within ten feet of alcohol, and that he's a sucker for boys with pretty eyes. Klaine


**A/N: **Oh look, I uploaded something. How 'bout that.

Glee is my new obsession. :].

This is set before Kurt decides to transfer to Dalton, I suppose, since I wrote it before that happened and then forgot to upload it. XD. I dunno if it's any good, but this pairing makes me feel warm and snuggly inside. :]

* * *

The simple fact is that Kurt is lonelier than he has ever felt in his life. He had Mercedes, and she's great, but she doesn't understand, can't understand. There's the rest of the Glee club, and while they don't hate him and treat him like a freak of nature like the rest of the school does, he can't quite say that they're supportive. There's his dad, who he loves, of course, but he can't talk to him about… well, much of anything.

And then there's Blaine, who has come closer than anyone else has to getting rid of that empty pit in his chest that is the loneliness that Kurt is plagued by. And he's perfect and wonderful. But Kurt isn't sure what he is to Blaine, or even what Blaine is to him. Friend? Older, wiser mentor? Potential boyfriend? (He stops himself from even thinking about that no matter how attractive Blaine is.) He doesn't know, and he can't ask no matter how sweet and non-judging Blaine always is.

So he's stuck, even with Blaine there to pour his heart out to. He hasn't even dared to talk to Burt about transferring to Dalton, but he _can't _stay at McKinley, _can't _face Karofksy – who still hasn't admitted that he forced himself on Kurt and still hasn't stopped shoving him into lockers every day – or anyone else for that matter. Stuck. Stagnant.

And just thinking about that made the empty pit in his chest – just underneath his heart – into a gaping hole.

As soon as he gets home he sees his phone alerting him to a text, and not unexpectedly, it's from Blaine. They have gotten into the habit of texting every day, mostly as Kurt falls asleep at night. He's woken up to 'good morning' texts from his new friend often the last few weeks, which always makes him start his day with a smile on his face, though his good mood is ruined by the sight of Karofsky more often than not.

_How are you? You've been quiet lately. – B, _the text reads, and Kurt stares at it for a very long time. It's about the simplest question one can ask, and the most complicated all at the same time. Does he give Blaine the generic 'I'm fine' that he gives to Burt, and Mercedes and the other Gleeks if they bother to ask? Does he answer truthfully – and if he goes down that path, how does he say it? How does he explain in a text how it feels, being hated by nearly everyone and ignored by the rest, how it feels to share no interests with any other men, just the girls? How does he describe a black hole slowly swallowing him up? How does he admit that he feels like he's losing it?

Except Blaine knows what he's feeling, he's been through that. Kurt knows this. For some reason that doesn't help him decide what to say.

_I don't know. – K, _he finally types.

It's a safe answer, if an unsatisfying one. Somehow Blaine senses the emotion in those three words, even in a text, because after a while –Kurt will never admit that he was staring at the screen impatiently the entire time – Blaine texts back with _Let's get coffee. – B_

Is it a date? Is it a friendly get-together? Why does this boy's every action fill Kurt with more questions?

_Now? – K_

_If you want. – B_

Blaine decides the when and where and then it's up to Kurt to figure out what to wear. After agonizing over his hair for ten minutes, he realizes that probably Blaine doesn't care and that he's going to be late if he doesn't go now, but he throws on a different scarf just to feel like he's not still wearing his school clothes. It doesn't work.

* * *

A quick scan of the little coffee shop reveals that Blaine is already there waiting for him, sitting at a little two-seater table in the corner. He's wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans under a black jacket, and it's just weird to see him out of his Dalton uniform. He smiles that perfect smile as Kurt sits down across from him and hands him one of the two steaming Styrofoam coffee cups in front of him. "Got your usual," he says. It is indeed his usual low-fat caramel-mocha latte. For some reason it boggles his mind that he and Blaine have gotten coffee together enough times that he knows exactly what Kurt would order.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and takes a sip. It burns his tongue. Blaine hasn't been sitting here that long.

Though there is chatter all around them, it feels so silent. And Blaine is just looking at him, seeing right through him, and understanding everything like he has been since the very first day he bought Kurt coffee. Kurt doesn't understand how he does it, but it makes him feel vulnerable and safe all at the same time.

"Bullies?" Blaine asks. Kurt nods. "Karofsky again?" He doesn't even need to answer this time. Blaine sighs and takes a drink of his coffee, and Kurt does the same. This time it burns the back of his throat. "I'm sorry, man."

"Nothing you could do about it."

"I know. I wish there was." He puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. "Standing up to him isn't working?"

"I can't… not since… well, you know. And the teachers just… don't even care. I can't understand how they don't_ care._" He feels his throat tightening and his eyes stinging, his face is probably turning red and splotchy, and damn it, he hadn't come here with the intention of crying in front of Blaine _yet again. _He takes several deep, shaky breaths. "I'm sorry. Seems like every time we see each other I'm unburdening my soul to you."

Blaine chuckles. "It's totally okay."

"But it's not, though," he insists. "I mean, my problems aren't your problems…" Everything in Blaine's look says _I made them my problems, _but Kurt doesn't mention this. He also doesn't mention the fact that Karofsky threatened to kill him. He doesn't know why he hasn't told Blaine this, but it feels _too _personal. It feels like if he even says _that _aloud something awful will happen.

"You know," Blaine says after a few moments of silence. "There's this thing tomorrow night."

"'Thing'?"

"A party at my friend's house. It'll mostly be Dalton guys, but I'm pretty sure there will be McKinley kids too, so it won't be all dudes. Not a special occasion or anything, just a normal party since his parents are out of town. "

"I dunno… I don't really know anyone from Dalton…"

"Well this is your chance to get to know them, isn't it? He's got a pool and a hot tub." Blaine wiggles his eyebrows, and Kurt can't help but giggle.

"Oh joy, a pool they can throw me into. I need more outfits ruined."

Blaine laughs. "We apply the no-bullying rule outside of school, too. Well, most of us. Come on, it might take your mind off things, plus if you're there I'll for sure have someone to hang out with."

Kurt can't quite comprehend anyone not wanting to hang out with Blaine, but he forces a smile. Blaine is right; it probably would take his mind off his current troubles. Maybe he'll actually make some friends. Maybe he'll meet other boys so cool that it will give him courage to tell his dad how very much he wants to transfer to Dalton. If not any of that, it's another chance to see Blaine. So he nods and says, "Okay."

Blaine's smile gets even bigger and it's a gorgeous smile and Kurt finds himself unable to breathe for approximately two seconds. "Great," he says. "It's a date." A pause in which Kurt blushes and drinks his coffee very quickly. "Erm, not a date. You know."

"Yeah," Kurt says, but he doesn't know at all.

* * *

He doesn't even know why his stomach is in knots when they pull up in front of David's house. He shouldn't be nervous. This is just a party, nothing important, and Blaine has already assured him that if he isn't having fun, he'll take him straight home. He spent a reasonable amount of time making sure that his hair outfit were just right, so that wasn't what was worrying him. There was no one reason, really.

"You're sure it's okay for me to be here?" He asks. Blaine pauses in the middle of stepping out of the car.

"Kurt, it's _fine. _We'll have a great time. Trust me." Before Kurt has a chance to get out of the car Blaine has already walked around and opened the door for him like a proper gentleman, and Kurt is giggling again. He wishes that he would stop giggling in front of Blaine, because it is beyond embarrassing, but Blaine politely ignores it.

He can already hear the dance music blaring from the backyard of the house. It's a lovely house, not too big, but definitely bigger than average. From what he can see most of the party is outside, but once they get inside he sees that there are just as many people in, too. The living room is comfortably posh, not so fancy that you're scared to touch the furniture but so cheap that you're embarrassed to be there. Wes and David immediately spot them. "Glad you guys could make it!" Wes says, raising his voice just a little over the music and other voices. He punches Blaine on the arm, and Blaine punches back. "How you doin', Kurt?"

"Not bad," he mumbles, glancing at Blaine. He looks good, Kurt notices for the hundredth time since Blaine picked him up. Not too casual but not quite as fashionably as Kurt, who, looking around at the rest of the party, is wondering if he might have dressed up a bit too much.

Blaine grabs Kurt and leads him through the house and into the back yard, which, as promised, does have a pool, though it's empty except for a few boys who, Kurt has to assume as he watches them, must be swimming on a dare, judging by the girls laughing and egging them on. The hot tub previously mentioned, however, is full of boys and girls alike. It's like a human soup pot and Kurt decides to stay away from it no matter how tempting the thought of being in a hot tub with Blaine might be. On the other side of the yard, there is alcohol in abundance.

"You're uncomfortable, aren't you?" Blaine says. He looks genuinely worried.

"No!" Kurt says a little too quickly. "I'm fine. Really! I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do at a party." He had come to try to escape some of the loneliness. The emptiness. Nevertheless, surrounded by all of these people he didn't know (yet), it's just making the hole in his chest bigger. He doesn't know where to start.

"Socialize, maybe?" Blaine shrugs. "I can guarantee that there will be karaoke later… oh, come on, I see some of my friends."

They make their way across the yard, and start interacting with Blaine's friends. Blaine practically forces Kurt into the middle of the conversation every chance he gets. Kurt can see what he's doing, making him socialize, but it's harder than it should be. It helps that Blaine's friends are Warblers, so at least they all have Glee Club in common, and Blaine insists that Kurt shows off some of his vocal talents. They all end up singing Lady GaGa at the top of their lungs, probably very badly. And it's fun, they're laughing and joking and he's actually having _fun _with Blaine's friends. They like him, or at least are amused by him. He's not completely hopeless.

Eventually Kurt loses track of the conversation and looks around. They're close to the group of boys passing out alcohol, and since this is a Dalton party, someone has brought more than canned Bud Light like you would at any other high school party in Ohio. It's still beer, but its beer from a keg with a classy name, and in Kurt's world, this counts for something.

Almost everyone is drinking. And having a whole lot of fun, by the looks of it. Like they've forgotten all of their everyday troubles.

"I need alcohol," Kurt announces.

Blaine glances at him, as if unsure if he should be laughing or not. "You drink?"

"Nope." It doesn't matter that he had planned to swear off alcohol until he was legal. He's at a party, so he's supposed to be drinking, right? "But I really, _really_ want a beer."

"O…kay." Blaine still has a sort of disbelieving half-smile on his face. Kurt ignores this and steps up to the guys sitting on the keg.

"Mind if I have one?" His voice sounds more cheerful than he feels. One of the guys looks him up and down, and Kurt can read his mind. _You? _The guy is thinking. _What do you know about drinking, you little wimp? We've been drinking since you were in middle school. You don't deserve our booze._ He shrugs and fills up a red plastic cup and hands it to Kurt, who thanks him and walks back to where Blaine is standing before taking a sip of the foamy beer. He hides the fact that the first drink makes him gag a little. The second drink is easier to deal with.

"Looks like I'm driving home tonight," Blaine laughs. Kurt smiles up at him and takes a long gulp of his beer, shuddering a little at the unfamiliar flavor. He downs the last of the drink as quickly as he can. Then he goes back for seconds, despite the strange looks he gets from… well, everyone. A small part of his mind whispers to him that he's using alcohol to drown his sorrows and that this won't help anything and that this could send him down the road to being an alcoholic. Another beer shuts the voice up.

Kurt Hummel learns a few things about himself that night.

One of those things is that he is a lightweight, and that three beers will get him buzzed. Nine beers, however, will get him more than drunk.

At the time, he thinks he's never felt better. For one thing after a while he stops being able to taste how awful the beer is. Everything is hilarious, even when it probably shouldn't be. He talks to every single person who passes by, convinced that they're his best friends. He sings along with every song that comes on the radio, and _every_ song is about him in the twisted logic of his addled mind_._ This is the best. He's so happy he might explode.

When he stumbles back from the beer keg a tenth time, he trips and spills his beer on the ground. Blaine is there steadying him in an instant. "Think you might want to slow down a bit, Kurt?"

Slow down? Is he going to fast? He lost his concept of time. He could have been drinking for hours and he wouldn't know, or care. "Um," he says. "No?"

"How many have you _had_?"

"I'll stop when…when…when I'm ready." He slurs, slightly shocked at how much the alcohol affects his voice. He can hear Blaine's friends laughing at him in the background. What's so funny? "This is like…the best party ever! Thanks for… um… for…for… for bringing me. You're the greatest, Blaine… you're my best friend…"

He stumbles again, even though he wasn't trying to walk, and this time he drops his beer. Blaine catches him before he falls to the ground. "Maybe you should sit down, okay?" Blaine says, but Kurt isn't listening because he's too busy staring up at his eyes. They were, Kurt decided, the most perfect, beautiful eyes in the entire world, hell, _Blaine _was the most perfect, beautiful person in the entire world, the only person his age to treat him like he's worth something, like he's more than just a stupid fag, and with every text and every not-quite-a-date at the coffee shop Blaine is saving him from his miserable existence and he just might be falling in love with him, and Blaine is holding him up now, his hands on his shoulders and keeping him from falling and his head is foggy and it suddenly occurs to him that he might be saying all of this out loud and he can't figure out if he cares or not because _there are Blaine's perfect eyes, _and before Kurt can think anymore he grabs Blaine's shirt collar and pulls him down and kisses him on the lips.

He's sure that it's a sloppy, terrible kiss, but he doesn't stop. Can't stop. The whole time Kurt is kissing him, Blaine doesn't move. He might as well be kissing a statue.

He finally pulls away and stares up at Blaine, who is staring down at him, his expression unreadable, and Kurt remembers only one thing before he passes out. He remembers it in perfect detail, down to taste and smell and texture and possibly color. Before he passes out, Kurt doubles over and vomits all over Blaine's shoes.

* * *

When he wakes up, he's in his own bed, the sun streaming from the windows and hitting his throbbing face. The fact that he is in his bed seems very strange to him, but he can't figure out why until he realizes that his mouth tastes like puke and every detail of the night before comes rushing back to him.

He tries to sit up and actually cries out from the pain in his head and stomach and entire body. His throat aches and he's shaking. He didn't even know that alcohol could do this to a person. Burt walks in at that moment, carrying a plate of dry toast and a big glass of water, and Kurt wants to die. Burt holds up a hand before Kurt has a chance to speak. "Your friend told me everything that happened. Drink some water."

_Everything? _Kurt wonders as he drinks. At least now he couldn't taste day old vomit. _Literally everything, or everything with a few choice bits omitted? _A few choice bits like kissing Blaine. And puking on his shoes.

_Puking. On. His. Shoes. _

When the water hits his stomach, he feels like he'll just retch it all up again. Burt sets the dry toast down on Kurt's bedside table and lingers in the doorway, hesitant, as if he's not sure how he's supposed to handle a situation like this. "How do you feel?"

"How to you think I feel?" Kurt whispers, his throat hoarse and sore. His head is pounding so hard he can hardly see straight. "What time is… school. I need to get to school."

Burt shakes his head. "Like hell you're going to school like this. I already called you in sick."

"But – but Glee Club –" He's been dreading Glee Club every single day this entire week. Suddenly the only thing he wants is to be able to go.

"You have the worse hangover I've ever seen, Kurt! Eat something and get some more rest." He pauses before he leaves the room. "You learned your lesson?"

Kurt can feel his eyes stinging with tears. He's not going to cry. He is _not going to cry. _He nods, andBurt nods back and leaves him alone, closing the door behind him. He takes a bite of the toast and can feel himself poised to projectile vomit, so he pushes the plate away and lays back down, hiding himself under the covers, shutting his eyes against the pain and shame.

He must have fallen asleep under there, because the next thing he knows someone is pulling the covers away and calling 'wake up, sleepyhead' in a tone of voice that is far too cheerful for the situation. Kurt opens his eyes and finds himself looking at Blaine.

Oh god (or whatever higher being might be out there. He isn't feeling fussy at the moment.)

Oh. God.

"Hi," Blaine says. Kurt sits up, disappointed to find that the pain hasn't eased. If anything, it may have worsened.

"Did… did you bring me home?"

"Yep. I guess you don't remember waking up long enough to get to your room. Your dad and I had quite the talk. He wasn't too happy about an unfamiliar boy bringing his drunken son home."

Kurt takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to hold the tears at bay. "I'm sorry." He whispers.

"For drinking? I don't care if you drink. I'm just kind of curious as to why you felt the need to drink that much. It's really dangerous, you know. And I guess don't know you _all _that well, but it just didn't seem like you." There is absolutely no judgment in his expression. None at all.

It's trying to think of an explanation that finally breaks him down. A tear trickles down Kurt's cheek, then another, and then he can't stop it and he's _sobbing_ and he's cried far too many times in front of Blaine. He's cried too many times in the past few weeks, period.

"…wow. You must feel really awful." Blaine says quietly. Kurt lets out a sound that is a strange mix between a laugh and a hiccup and a sob. He _does _feel awful, but he's not sure it's the pain that's making him cry.

"I don't know," he says, wiping away the tears, but it doesn't do any good. "I just… I thought it would make everything go away, just for a minute. I don't know why. I'm just so scared all the time, and miserable, and I'm so stupid. And oh my god, I puked on your shoes."

Blaine laughs. Kurt doesn't. "I don't care about the shoes."

"They were great shoes."

"I don't care."

"I would kill for those shoes."

"_Kurt._" Blaine sits down on the bed next to him, gently putting an arm around his shoulders. Kurt resists the urge to lean against him, but just barely.

Suddenly Kurt is not just crying anymore, he's laughing and crying at the same time. "I'm one messed up guy, aren't I?" He hiccups.

Blaine's arm tightens around him. "Yeah," he said softly. "But so am I. No, really, I am. So is everyone else. So you got wasted at a party. So has most of McKinley, I bet."

"But…"

"Are you bummed because I didn't kiss you back?"

Kurt flinches. He had hoped not to mention the kiss. To anyone. Ever. "Maybe," he mumbles. "My god. I have the worse luck with kissing in the entire world."

"Which is exactly why I didn't kiss you back." Kurt stares at him, not understanding. "You don't even _know _how drunk you were. You didn't know what you were doing. I didn't know if you meant it. I didn't know if you would have wanted me to kiss you if you hadn't been drunk. That would have been like taking advantage of you. I wouldn't have been any better than Karofsky –"

"You _had _to mention him, didn't you?" Kurt shivers and tries to steer his mind away from any thought of that boy. "But… you didn't exactly try to stop me."

To his surprise, Blaine actually blushes. "Um. Yeah." He laughs softly. "So… it wasn't because I didn't want to kiss you back. I did. I've, uh, kind of wanted to ever since you spied on me at Dalton," he finishes. Kurt cannot quite comprehend this. He runs it through in his mind over and over until it makes a vague amount of sense. And Kurt is sure that Blaine is the bravest boy in the world, because Kurt would never have gotten up the nerve to tell him that he feels the exact same way, at least not while sober. Not after puking on his shoes. "Because you are the most genuinely amazing, adorable, beautiful boys I have ever met. No matter how drunk you are." Kurt giggles. He can't help it. He wipes his nose on his sleeve because there's nothing else to wipe it on. "Kurt… did you mean all those things you said last night?" Blaine looked straight at him as he said it, and Kurt froze.

_Ah, _he thought. _Right. _"I'm not entirely sure what I said or did not say," he answered carefully. _Please don't be what I think it was. Please don't make me relive the embaressment._

"A lot of things. Some of it gibberish… some of it…" A smile that was half teasing and half nervous came across the other boy's face. "Some of it about… beautiful eyes and saving you from yourself and…" He let the sentence trail off in a silent question.

_And love, _Kurt finished the sentence for him. _Maybe. Someday. _And he didn't know any possible way to answer that. Instead he smiled back, albeit uncertainly, and said, "I swear that I will never drink again. Kurt Hummel plus alcohol is a big no-no."

"That is probably a good idea." Blaine shifts so that he is sitting in front of Kurt, and takes his hand. Kurt's breath catches in his throat, and their eyes meet. And they really are some of the most beautiful eyes in the whole world. "For one thing, it greatly hindered your kissing skills."

Kurt groans. "I knew I was terrible."

"Well…" Blaine smirks. "Maybe you just need practice?"

"Um." Blaine's finger is absently stroking the inside of his wrist. It's incredibly distracting. "I, um, yeah. Maybe." He finishes lamely. He can't remember what he was about to say to save his life. Blaine is still grinning and still looking straight at him and Kurt is sure that he must practice staring contests with himself in the mirror.

"I think… you need a first kiss that actually counts." He slowly lifts Kurt's hand to his lips, pressing them against the sensitive spot where his finger was just stroking, never breaking eye contact. His heart is threatening to burst from his chest and he can't breathe. When Blaine presses his lips against Kurt's he is gentle and sweet and everything that Karofsky was not. Kurt shuts his eyes tight and tries to remember the small amount he knows about kissing, and though he is sure he's doing terrible at it, Blaine doesn't seem to mind, judging by the fact that he can feel him smiling against his lips. It only lasts a few seconds, and it is simple, no tongue, nothing particularly fancy, but it is a few un-fancy seconds where Kurt forgets how much pain he's in, forgets everything wrong in his life, everything except… _this. _This is how his first kiss should have been. This is how every kiss should be.

"Oh_," _he breathes as Blaine pulls away. It's the only thing he can seem to say. "_Oh._"

Blaine looks surprisingly nervous, but he's still smiling. "Yeah." He laughs softly.

Kurt takes a deep breath. Then he says, "Blaine?"

"Yes?"

"You may want to get out of the way before I puke on you again."


End file.
